Identity Crisis
by Graysen
Summary: The Adventures of Spike Bristow. Totally AU. Everyone's human. Alias meets Buffyverse. Will be B/S
1. Prologue

  
  
**  
  
**_  
Prologue****_  


  
"Hello"

I look up at the person rudely interrupting my thoughts. I raise an eyebrow and say "Hello"  
  
"Why don't you come into my office?"

I sigh "If I must."

"So, why are you here?"

I reply with a glare, "My idiot bosses think I need to talk to someone 'cos my fiancee was killed."   
I close my eyes at the mental image of finding my blood drenched beloved in that cramped bathtub......I feel the bile start to make its way up as I try and distract myself by saying "So, come on. Let's get this over with. Where would you like me to start?"

"How about the begining?"  
  
"Fine. My father, Rupert, the CIA agent went to London on vacation." I silenty growl at the thought of my father, the self-righteous pillock. 

"He met my mother, Joyce Peters. They wooed for a few months before he popped the question. A few years later Dawn Marie Bristow was born in Manchester. Three years after that Spike William Bristow was born in London. I bet you're wonder about the name. Well, my parents let Dawn name me. Dawnie claims she named me Spike, 'cos I had all these spikey blond locks. I know. I think she'd nuts, too."  
  
I pause to gather my thoughts. "Had a rather bad childhood. Mum died when I was 7 in this car crash. My father sent Dawn and me off to boarding school in Manchester. Barely a word for years, not till I got into Harvard. Then he was a proud papa. I joined the Mile High Club that flight with Liz. I don't think that was her real name though." I said with a smile reminiscing just how hot Liz had been. 

  


  



	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1   
  
"So, how did you come to join XD-5?"   
  
"Well, that's a long story," I said as I took out a cigarette and lit it.   
  
The doctor just smirked and said, "I've got time."   
  
"Okay. When I arrived in Los Angeles, summer session was just about to begin. I thought for sure I'd have the room all to myself. I was wrong. I had just settled in when this wannabe punk rolled in. He introduced himself as Connor Galliano. By the end of the summer we were best friends. Though we did have our arguments. Mostly about me taking Chinese and Russian as electives did not mean I was a geek. Or that he was totally a male-slut with aspirations of being a gigolo. Of course the whole male-slut thing all stopped when he met my sister. It was during fall break while I was working at Dawn's club when I ran in to Liz again. Let's just say the passion was not depleted. Naturally, I got fired for going after the guy who was manhandling my girl. "   
  
"You've mentioned Liz now twice. Who was she?"   
  
"My love and that's all you're getting out of me." I said defiantly.   
  
"Alright then, you still haven't answered my original question. How did you come to join XD-5?"   
  
I stared out of the window as my mind wondered back to that first meeting with XD-5.   
  
A week or so after the whole Liz thing, I was outside studying when this woman in a black suit came up to me. She looked to be in her mid-forties, with slightly graying blonde hair, but still trim.   
  
"Excuse me? Are you Spike Bristow?"  
"Yes." I was quite surprised. I wasn't used to strange women coming up to me, especially one dressed in such a professional manner.   
  
"My name is Jenkins. I'm a recruiter for the Central Intelligence Agency." She handed me this gray business card. The logo read Credit Wyndham-Price Bank and Trust. Below that was the name Ember Jenkins with an address and a phone number. Nowhere on there did it mention the CIA.   
  
"Really?" I replied with a smirk. "Okay, where's the bloody hidden camera?"   
  
"I assure you that this is not a joke" She said pulling out a wallet and flipping it open so I could see her identification card with an official looking CIA symbol at the top.   
  
I stared at her in disbelieve for a few seconds wondering why the CIA would possibly be interested in me. Did I forget to pay an old parking ticket? Perhaps I was too rash with my views in debate class.   
  
Jenkins let me stew for a bit before saying "There's no reason to be alarmed. We are just looking for possible candidates to join our agency. We feel you could be one of those candidates."   
  
"Me? Work for the CIA?" I may have stuttered my reply, I'm not sure.   
  
"If you decide that you are interested please call me at the number on the card," she said ignoring my stuttering. "Try not to lose it. I'm not listed and this is a one time offer. Heedless, of your decision. You must not tell any one of this conversation. Ever. I cannot stress that enough."   
  
"I won't tell anyone," I faintly replied.   
  
"Good. I hope to be hearing from you soon." She nodded her good-bye and just walked away.   
  
"Like anyone would even believe me," I said under my breath.   
  
A few days passed and the conversation with Ember Jenkins was never far from my mind. I was still in shock that the CIA actually wanted me, Spike Bristow, who's been called a brainic on numerous occasions and accused of writing bloody awful poetry, and so shy most people don't even notice him.   
  
Me. They want me. This has got to be some kind of joke. I've never really been athletically inclined other than jogging and Ti Chi. I've always been more into books, which is why at 18 years old I'm fluent in 6 languages, plus a few dead languages. History's always fascinated me, plus it took me away from the reality that my father didn't want anything to do with me and Dawn. When you think of possible CIA candidates you think of someone who's strong, very capable and afraid of nothing; not a guy who gets turned down for dates left and right and who couldn't even keep a stock room job.   
  
Finally, I decided to just go for it. I paced in front of the pay phones for a few minutes getting up the nerve. My heart was racing and my hand shook as I dialed the number.   
  
RING.   
  
"Credit Wyndham-Price Bank and Trust. How may I direct your call?"   
  
"Ember Jenkins, please." 


End file.
